His lips made a grim twist that was like the joyless cousin of a smile.

Stars got tangled in her hair whenever she played in the sky.

Light coursed through Karou and darkness chased it-burning through her, chilling her, shimmer and shadow, ice and fire, blood and starlight, rushing, roaring, filling her.

She moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx.

Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love. It did not end well.

Like a magpie, I am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales, dead languages, weird folk beliefs, fascinating religions, and more.

A man once said, 'All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence; then success is sure.' Mark Twain, you know. He had a fine mustache. Men of wisdom so often do.

Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there's no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic.

She knocked and waited, because when the door was opened from within, it had the potential to lead someplace quite different.

Where am I and doing what? You might well ask. Freaky chick, you say? You can't imagine. I am priestess of a sandcastle in a land of dust and starlight.

I am one of billions. I am stardust gathered fleetingly into form. I will be ungathered. The stardust will go on to be other things someday and I will be free.

We can escape the commonplace only by manipulating it, controlling it, thrusting it into our dreams or surrendering it to the free play of our subjectivity.

You cannot uneducate the person who has learned to read.

We don't have any miraculous way of avoiding taxes at Wesco and Berkshire.

The best-dressed man is an Italian who is trying to look English, or an Englishman who is trying to look Italian.

Cheyenne Jackson is just a dream.

Missing pieces do more than complete the puzzle, they fill in an empty space.

I thought love was more or less a giving thing. Seems the more I gave, the less I got.

A work well begun is half-ended.

I truly believe that regret is the only wound the soul does not recover from, and so I'm trying to live without regrets. ... Each day is another chance to be swept away.

With products the form is almost the finished piece, but with architecture it is not.